


Eulogy

by astro_princey



Series: A Tale of Love and Growth [1]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Connor doesn't commit suicide au, Depression, Drug Use, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astro_princey/pseuds/astro_princey
Summary: Everyday was the same. Wake up, skip breakfast, barely eat lunch, write a letter, skip dinner, sleep and nothing else. Evan Hansen lived the painful monotonous life of a depressed and anxious teenager trying to find his purpose in a maze of permanent endings. Fumbling for that last reason to climb the tree and let go, again.But senior year started like any other, until he ran into Connor Murphy.





	1. He Doesn't Listen

"Wait! Please wait! Stop!" Evan cried out fumbling for Connor's arm in a last-ditch effort. His racing mind halted to a stop, realizing his hand was wrapped around the pale, lanky teen's forearm. "I-I...I'm sorry!" He apologized profusely.

 

Connor struggles to pull his arm out of Evan's firm grip, faltering as the shorter boy’s peacock blue eyes filled with tears.

 

The dirty blonde’s brows furrowed in confusion for a second before Evan continued stuttering out a plea. "Please! I just please let me e-explain!" He looked up at Connor helplessly, biting his bottom lip nervously. "Please."

 

"Fine," The brunette snarled and tugged his arm away, "but I swear to god I will kill you if you're fucking with me, Hansen." Connor's slender hand clutched onto the letter–his lifeline.

 

Evan curled into himself, shoulders slumped as he stared into the dirty navy blue carpet. "Those...those letters are to me, I-I swear, it's j-just my doctor–she–my doctor told me to write th-them. I-I have to give them to her at my n-next appointment–today!" Evan scratched the back of his hand and pulled on the hem of his blue striped polo anxiously. Looking up for a fraction of a second, only to return his gaze to the floor. "Please give it back, I need them an-and I didn't mean to–I wasn't trying t-to hurt you and the things about your s-Zoe is that she seems nice and I-"

 

Connor took a step back, staring at Evan. "Shit, uh Hansen?" He questioned, as the dirty blond stuttered on about his letter.

 

"-and you signed my cast, and that was n-nice, but now I've...I've ruined it like I ruin e-everything!" Evan stopped looking up at Connor; blush spread across Evan's face realizing how much he had just said to an almost complete stranger. 

 

Besides the low hum of the air conditioner, silence clouded the computer lab as Connor stubbornly handed back the letter and resumed standing there. Picking at his already chipped nail polish, his shoulders slumped. Connor tilted his head, letting a curtain of messy brown hair shield his face.

 

Evan fumbled for the letter, shoving it back into his backpack and staring down at his feet in embarrassment. The final school bell rang meaning all students should be on their way out, but they just stood there. Until Connor cleared his throat.

 

"Well, fuck, bye Hansen." He finally said adjusting his shoulder bag and speed walking out of the building. Evan looked up to see him leave and prepared to escape as well. Quickly making his way to the door, he noticed something where Connor had been standing, a pin. He wasn't sure if it was a band, but it read in all its glory Mother Mother with the word Eureka underneath. Maybe it was Connor's? He pocketed it thinking about slipping it into the other boy's locker, or perhaps handing it to him in the halls-no, the locker would be fine. Taking another step towards the door, his cell rang. The caller ID read Jared Kleinman, great, he didn't need this right now.

 

"Yo, Evan! Need a ride? My mom said I should start giving you rides home, I mean, after all, you're helping me with my car insurance."

 

Evan bit his lip, he could never tell if Jared was joking about the car insurance thing. It didn't seem like it. "N-no I'm...I think I'll just walk."

 

Jared snorted. "What? Why? It's like ninety degrees out there."

 

"I just n-need to clear my head."

 

"What for? Isn't it empty enough up there?"

 

"Stuff."

 

On the way home Evan explained the computer lab incident over the phone, aware how close to tears he was most of the conversation. His family friend didn't say anything except for the occasional "mhm" or "and?" before letting Evan continue.

 

"So you accidentally let him find your weird sex letter?! That psycho's gonna fucking kill you; Connor Murphy is batshit out of his mind!" Jared laughed. "Remember when he threw a printer at Mrs. G in second grade because he didn't get to be the line leader that day?"

 

He vaguely remembered Connor pushing the printer onto Mrs. G's foot and the truth getting construed into some weird delinquent story. He'd never talked to Connor before today, but Evan had never seen proof of him being crazy. Just evidence of him being misunderstood or made fun of or lashing out, he didn't think that was crazy.

 

"Evan, how do you get yourself in so much shit? How the hell did you manage to get the school psycho to hate you?"

 

"I-I don't know, please s-stop shouting and don't–maybe don't–it’s wrong to call people that..." He pulled his key out of his backpack, shaking as it entered the lock.

 

"Right. Well, I have to go, homework and stuff." Jared sighed hanging up before Evan could even say bye.

 

When Evan got in the house, he breathed a sigh of relief, home at last. His mom wouldn't be home until almost midnight, so dinner was a problem. He hated ordering pizza, it wasn't that he didn't like pizza, but that the fact that he had to open the door and have a conversation with pizza deliverer while fumbling around with the cash was somewhat intimidating. Slowly taking off his shoes and placing them next to the door he strolled towards the kitchen. He sighed as he picked up the $20 bill next to a note from his mother about ordering some dinner for himself.  _ Why am I so pathetic _ he thought, looking in the freezer for some microwaveable food. There were frozen peas, ice cream, ice packs, and a single ice tray-not much of a dinner.

 

Giving up on the thought of dinner, he walked over to his backpack unzipping the top pouch for his phone. Just got home he messaged his mom, hoping she wouldn't worry too much about him. Like any good student would do, he pulled out his calculus book and started working on whatever homework he been given. First math, then English and, to top it off on a good note, environmental studies, or as Jared liked to call it nature freak class.

 

Directing himself back into the kitchen, he shook his head realizing that he wasn't going to take a chance and order anything that might conclude in an awkward encounter.  It's not like he was too hungry or anything, he'd just eat a bigger breakfast in the morning. The eerie silence that filled the house stayed uninterrupted when Evan caught himself walking upstairs to the bathroom. He stared in the mirror keeping eye contact with his reflection. Evan didn't like his nose, or his lips, or his slightly chubby face, or anything. He continued to glower at the mirror loathing himself. Looking away he walked towards his room noting that it was almost nine o'clock. If he wanted to be at least a little bit well rested, he should be in bed by 10.

 

Covering his cast and plastic, he stared at Connor's name in bold black capital letters. He adjusted the temperature of the shower so it was just hot enough that it wouldn't burn him. Stepping in, the feeling of the entire day rushing over him filled his thoughts. Connor Murphy pushing him, then Zoe Murphy apologizing for her brother, Connor later apologizing to him and signing his cast than finding a letter and everything falling apart and Evan screaming for someone to understand-this year wouldn't be great. Years were never great, days were never great, weeks were never great, nothing was ever great for Evan Hansen because Evan Hansen couldn't take being happy.

 

He let go of the breath he didn't know he'd been holding and stopped the shower head.

 

Replacing his tan pants with grey sweats and his blue striped polo with a ratty T-shirt he got under the covers. Like every night he turned on the nightstand light and picked up one of his books to read until his eyes got sleepy. He always studied about trees because the trees made him feel like he was clean of all negative thoughts - just like his lungs were cleared of carbon dioxide - his brain was removed from anything that made him feel like he wasn't allowed to live. He always had to remind himself of that, he was allowed to live.

 

His room was small with light blue walls and warm brown wood furniture. Papers littered his desk, some crisp newly printed letters and others crumpled old-school notes. They didn’t have much money to decorate, but he did have a shelf of cacti he’d accumulated from the various packages from his dad. Like sorry for abandoning you and your mom, have a cactus. And another cactus. Hell, take two. A cactus for every Christmas, birthday, and Valentine’s day. 

 

He read about Picea pungens-or better known as Blue Spruce-not only was it Colorado's state tree, but it grew up to 75 feet in the wild, and Bristlecone Pine, which was highly resilient to hard soil and harsh weather. When he finally felt sleepy, he put his book on the nightstand and turn off the light. Finally closing his eyes all he saw was Connor's face, blankly staring at him with an expression of confusion or maybe disgust. His eyes snapped open.

 

Why did he think about Connor? He thought he was over that, but he was never over things. The Mother Mother pin lay on the nightstand as he glared at his ceiling. Why did he care so much - he always cared too much. Evan turned to the clock on the bedside table, it was only eleven, and his mom would be home in a couple minutes.  He took a deep breath and let his eyes bore into the ceiling. His mind raced back and forth, searching for something to focus on. Picking up his phone he searched Spotify for the band on the pin. They had six albums. Mindlessly selecting the one with a colorful lion on it he sighed. The group was interesting, a little strange, but enjoyable. By the third song, Evan could hear the garage door open, and his mom’s car drive in. Fumbling for his phone, he stopped the music and turned on his side hoping he could pass as sleeping. 

 

Evan closed his eyes. 

 

“Evan? You didn’t eat a-” She opened the door and sighed audibly. Sitting on the edge of the bed she ran a hand through his hair, giving a quick kiss to his temple. “Good night, sweetheart.” Closing the door behind her, his mom let him sleep - because she thought he was.

 

Opening his eyes, Evan grimaced. He didn’t like lying to his mom. She was his everything, and he was just a burden. To keep her up to lecture him was a waste of her needed energy. His hand traced Connor’s name on the cast in the little light he had. Hopefully tomorrow he could slip the pin in the locker without getting noticed by anyone, especially Connor. _You're just a waste of time, a waste of air._

 

Maybe he could talk to Zoe again, except this time they wouldn’t be talking about her brother. Not that he didn’t like Connor, he barely knew the guy, but having a normal conversation with Zoe would be nice. They could talk about jazz band...and maybe something else. Hopefully, he’d be able to think of something else.

  
  



	2. He's a Puzzle

"Hey sleepy, wake up!" Evan's mom opened the door watching her tired boy. "Honey, c'mon you've got school, the second day of senior year." The blonde woman watched him roll over and groan softly underneath his duvet. "Evan." She said a tad sternly.

  
  


"Okay..."

  
  


"Good, we've got toast and cereal for breakfast!" Her smile reappeared she watched him, just to make sure he got out of bed and then wandered downstairs.

  
  


It wasn't every day that Heidi Hansen could relax and enjoy breakfast with her son due to her amount of hours as a nurse and a student. Evan was aware she never knew when she was needed for sure, but his mom tried to be there for him when she could. Even with school and work, Evan was still her number one priority, and he knew that or he told her he did.

  
  


Evan yawned, kicking the covers off of him as he rubbed the sleep out of his sensitive eyes. He blinked slowly as he dragged himself into the shower, making sure the clothes he'd set the night before were on the bathroom shelf. Unlike his night shower, his morning shower was cold and then gradually became bearable when his body got used to the temperature. Washing his body, besides his plastic covered arm, he went over his day. First period there was a calculus homework due, then a lecture for second period, break followed by third-period study hall. Thinking about Connor in his study hall shook him awake, how could he face Connor? Evan gnawed on his bottom lip trying to figure of a temporary solution.

  
  


"Evan! Honey, we're on a time limit." Heidi knocked, jerking him out of his headspace. He tended to do that, forget the time and just think. Now he was ruining his mom’s morning.

  
  


"S-sorry mom, I spaced out."  He apologized turning off the water and stepping out to grab a fuzzy baby blue towel with "Evan" messily stitched on the corner. He got dressed in a powder blue polo shirt and tan pants, almost exactly like the day before, running down the stairs he nearly bumped into his mother.

  
  


"Oh Evan, you look great!" She cooed, ruffling his dirty blond hair. 

  
  


"Mom..." He mumbled but beamed nevertheless, sitting at the kitchen table. He poured a bowl of Rice Krispies for himself, not a lot, just enough that his mom wouldn’t worry about how little he had been eating. "Are you going to be home tonight?" 

  
  


She shook her head, giving him a sad smile. "Got class tonight. Order yourself some food, okay? And actually order food, Evan, you need to eat. You’re a growing boy!" She kept chattering about her fellow nurse Sandra being late constantly since she started dating her new boyfriend. 

 

Wiping his hand on a napkin after the last bite of toast Evan interrupted her. “Sorry...um, Mom, I have to go early. I'll walk, but I have go now." Taking in his half-filled bowl and placing it in the kitchen sink. He attempted to seem calm as he possible before running up the stairs, grabbing the pin he put it in his pocket along with his phone. When he came down again, his mom was clearing the table.

  
  


"If you'd told me sooner I could have driven you." She pouted apparently trying to hide her disappointment voice. Great, he’d upset her.

  
  


"I'll be fine. Bye mom, love you." He attempted a smile tying on his ratty tennis shoes and picking up his backpack, turning around she was right in front of him.

  
  


Brushing back his hair she whispered, "Your smile isn’t as bright as it used to be," her eyes sought for an answer she wouldn't receive, "Talk to me some time. Have a good day." Pulling him down for a kiss on the forehead, she sighed. “I love you.”

  
  


Evan stumbled out the door and picked up the pace the closer he got to the school. Stopping in front of the glass doors he spotted Connor's locker and pressed for the pin in his pants pocket. He opened the door, quietly heading towards the tall boy's locker. The hall seemed empty. The only kids in their class had zero period right now, and who wanted to be at school early? No one, right?

  
  


"What the fuck are you doing, Hansen?"

 

He froze. Why was Connor here? Why him?

  
  


"I-I it's just you dropped this-this pin." He held out the pin gingerly, much like how Connor had held his letter. "I listened to the band. Mother Mother, right? Their m-music is kinda cool, and I just got a bit bored and, um,  I’m wasting your time. I'm sorry."

  
  


Taking the pin, Connor acknowledged his panic. "Not sure why the fuck you’d be sorry, but thanks, I guess. Thought I lost it." He twisted around to his messenger bag, sticking it on the flap next to a skeleton in a marching band uniform. Evan decided he needed to broaden his music taste. Connor pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes like he was looking for the right words to say. "Look, Hansen I know you don't have any people to talk to, but maybe you want to at least pretend to be, I don’t know, friends?”  Stoic as Connor usually was he looked pitiful now. Almost pleading.

  
  


Evan looked him in the eyes, his eyes were blue, not green like Evan's, but a bright pale blue and a stripe of brown in his left eye. It was odd but beautiful? As scary as everyone made Connor out to be he didn't look intimidating. Sure, his jaw and cheekbones were sharp, and the bags under his eyes were dark as bruises, but his eyes almost gave off a warm glow, kinda like a candle. Glowing. Hopeful.

  
  


"Hansen? Evan Hansen?" Connor asked snapping his fingers in front of Evan's head, startling him a bit.

  
  


"Sorry, I w-was thinking. Uh, I...sure."

  
  


"Also I'm sorry I signed your cast like that, no one else has room."

  
  


"It's n-not like anyone w-would have anyways." Evan shrugged, subtly admiring Connor's bold name in the black sharpie. The messy haired teen scowled at something behind Evan and tossed a post-it note at the blue loving boy.

  
  


"I was going to give this to you in study hall, but I'll do it now. See ya later, Hansen." He turned and stalked away. Opening the post-it, he saw a phone number.

  
  


Someone patted his shoulder.

  
  


Jared. Jared was behind him, that's what frightened Connor off. Giving a sinister smirk in his daily cargo shorts and t-shirt covered by an open button up, he watched Connor disappear into a classroom.  "What's up, Evan? So did Connor end up liking your sex letter?" 

  
  


"N-no, he wanted to...I think to be friends?"

  
  


"So he does want sex! I wonder what kind of kinky shit that guy is into." Jared tutted opening the locker two away from where Evan was standing. 

  
  


Evan shook his head, knowing he'd get nowhere with the shorter teen if he argued. Instead, he listened to Jared talk about his escapades on Overwatch the night before. Something about mercy and then he stopped paying attention. The bell rang. "I'll see you, Jared." 

  
  


The two parted ways and headed to their respective classes. Evan took a step into the calculus classroom, sitting in the back just like every class. Mr. Zitney, the teacher, smiled at him being the happy old man he was. Taking out his homework he walked up to the Zitney’s desk. "H-here’s my homework, sir." 

 

"Thank you, Evan." Marking stamp sheet with a bee stamp after looking over the teen’s work, he looked up. "So how was your summer?" 

 

"Oh, it was good. I was in the j-junior park ranger program this year." 

 

"Sounds adventurous!" He smiled, handing back the homework. "I hope this part of the 504 works. I know I can be a bit scary, but if this helps your anxiety, I’m glad to do it.”

 

Evan nodded, shuffling back to his desk. He watched students slowly file in from the hallway after the morning bell rang. Alana Beck, the senior class president, smiled at him with a toothy grin as she sat down. She was kind, he supposed, maybe a little too friendly. No one ever respected her time, not that she ever tried to defend it. 

 

“Now I know that most of you didn’t do your homework, but please bring up your stamp sheet and the problems I assigned if you have it.” Mr. Zitney announced, giving a look of knowing to Evan.

 

The classroom was cold with white walls and dirty blue carpet covered in mysterious stains. Students walked over to the teacher's desk in a line. The girl next to Evan stared at him expectantly. “You didn’t do it either?”

 

“N-no, I did. I just...well I mean I came in early a-and got it stamped b-before the bell.”

 

“Oh cool.” She returned to her phone to scroll through Instagram, not registering his panic.

 

Taking out his notebook he started the day’s notes on limit fundamentals. Two more periods and he’d have to face Connor again. Never had he wished classes were longer, until now.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Evan slipped through the door of his AP Psychology class five minutes before the bell rang. Thank goodness for his 504, he needed to thank his mom for fighting for that. As he walked through the front doors of the library Mrs. Snow, the librarian, gave him a wave from behind her desk. 

 

“Good morning, Evan.”

 

“G-good morning, Mrs. Snow.” Taking a seat near the back of the study room he took out his school provided Chromebook. In all honesty, he hated them, it was just another thing to worry about. As more students wandered in the bell rang. Connor wasn’t there...or he was late. 

 

Maybe ten minutes later Evan looked up to see Connor bounding down the stairs, an angry look on his face. The taller boy sat next to him, which confused some people.  There wasn't much to do since it was only the second day of school, but Connor pulled out a worn notebook that displayed a red cover littered with patterns and doodles in various colored pens. 

 

"Hey, Hansen." He said, not looking up.

 

“O-oh, good morning...a-again.” 

 

“So what do you do?”

 

Evan glanced at him, unmistakably perplexed. 

 

Connor turned his head to the other boy. "Like, I don’t fucking know, what do you do in your free time?"

  
  


"Sorry, I just...well sometimes climb tr-trees." He stuttered. "B-but since I'm hurt, and stuff, I just walk or read."

 

"No hobbies?"

 

"I have a little su-succulent collection I take care of, sorry." He added, thinking he must be boring Connor with his rather dull pastimes. “I’m really boring.”

 

"You apologize a lot."

 

"So-"

  
  


"Stop it. New rule. You can only apologize when you say something hurtful, not when whatever mental hell you put yourself to before you say sorry." Connor deadpanned, glancing at Evan. "Okay?"

  
  


"O-okay." Evan stared at his calculus homework in despair, he wasn't going to get this done. Connor watched him chew the end of his pencil, scribbling something on a sketch pad. He felt nervous, but not alone like most days in study hall, which was nice. Maybe Connor felt the same. Just sitting there he looked peaceful, possibly happy. 

 

“I’m sorry for being, like, a total dick to you. I do that sometimes. Most of the time.” 

 

Evan shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “It’s okay...I mean I was b-being weird and creepy.”

 

“You can’t help liking Zoe, everyone likes her.” Connor shrugged.

 

“I guess.”

 

Connor stared at his hands silently, eventually running one through his hair. “I don’t know how the fuck to talk to people.” 

 

“It’s okay. I have anxiety, and that makes talking difficult.”

 

He nodded, picking at the nail polish on his thumb. “You’re alright, Hansen…”

 

A warmth spread through Evan’s chest. He liked being alright. Connor remained silent for the rest of the period, covering his notebook with his arm. Evan glanced at Connor, who had a rare playful smile gracing his face. Relief settled in his chest, he hadn’t messed anything up. At least not today. Not yet.


	3. He Needs a Clue

Evan sighed turning off his phone. So Jared had computer club, it's not like he had a handful of friends to eat lunch with. Pushing away his sandwich of honey and sunflower seed butter, which didn't get stuck to the roof of his mouth and make him anxious like peanut butter His stomach grumbled, but he didn't feel hungry, in fact, the thought of food made him want to throw up. A group of girls behind him started laughing. Are they laughing at me? Is it that obvious that I'm nervous? I'm such a mess. Quickly getting up from the lunch table he dumped his lunch into the trash, stomach again grumbling in protest. He'd just snack on something at home. _No, you won't._

  


Swinging on his backpack, he made it to the field where one tall sweet birch - a tree with wintergreen smelling twigs because of methyl salicylate, which is produced in the bark - resided in the corner, his safe space. The stoners sat on the bleachers at least fifty feet away and then there was Connor Murphy, under the sweet birch...alone and writing is that same red notebook. Evan froze and stared at the tree. His mind raced. Do I go over? What if he wants to be alone? Has he seen me? _Run run sit run stay run sit._ He shook his head taking a tiny step forward, immediately regretting it. Just a few more. He took another. Connor's head turned when the stiff crabgrass crunched.

  


"Evan?"

  


_Abort abort! Evan run!_

  


He swallowed nervously. "H-hi Connor. Can I sit with you, Jared is in computer class. A-and I usually sit here when I'm b-by myself for lunch. If you don't want to sit with m-me I understand," panic started to set in, "sorry I'll go." _Good job Evan Hansen, way to be a freak. Now he hates you._ Poor Evan Hansen turned on his heels about to walk away.

  


"Shit, Hansen. Didn't we say something about apologizing too much?" Connor called from the tree, obviously annoyed. "What the fuck are you even apologizing for anyway?"

  


Evan held his breath and backtracked, standing where he had been before. Connor gave him an unimpressed look and eyed the grass next to him. He begrudgingly shuffled next to the tall tree and sitting tall boy. Connor patted the ground. Evan sat. They sat in silence. _Please say something._

  


"Get the fuck out of your head. I know exactly what you're doing."

  


"Sor-" Evan cleared his throat rethinking his words. "What, um, what do you m-mean?"

  


"You're psyching yourself out. Fucking stop it makes me anxious." He looked at Evan frown and play with the hem of his polo. He paused trying to look at his face. "Sorry," Connor mumbled.

  


Evan's head shot up giving him a shocked look. "I was just sensitive, I should be ap-"

  


"Just accept the damn apology, Evan!" Connor snapped staring are the leaves above him. He looked embarrassed or maybe angry.

  


_What did you just do? Fix it! Fix it now!_

  


"It's okay." His friend - were they friends? - Let out a breath he'd apparently been holding for a while. Evan went back to messing with the hem of his shirt. Thinking to himself. Evan hadn't stuttered for once. Connor called him Evan, not Hansen. He apologized. This wasn't the Connor Murphy he'd always heard about in his classes or even Jared. They sat in silence, comfortably this time, Connor's quiet breaths could be heard in the wind while his head leaned on the sweet birch trunk, eyes closed. His usually clenched fists were slack against a sketchbook with chipped black nail polish. Maybe he had anxiety like Evan? "Is that a sketchbook?"

  


Connor opened one eye, "Yes," closing it again.

  


"Can I see it."

  


Connor stiffened looking at the sketchbook in his lap, on top of his long legs covered by fading black skinny jeans. His face contorted into a couple expressions, never smiling. Evan noted that Connor doesn't smile, not yet.

 

"Get out of your head, I know exactly what you're doing." Evan echoed earning a snicker from Connor, but no smile. He was handed the sketchbook, which blew him away. When he opened it all he could do was smile. Connor was talented. Amazing. Sketches of who Evan assumed where his parents from afar filled the first three pages. Random kids probably from his own classes.

  


Then there was a page of Evan. Connor yanked the book out of his hands. "Don't say anything." Evan could feel the older Murphy's walls go up. He was furious, punching furious if Evan said the wrong thing something terrible might happen kind of fury.

  


"Can I say one thing?" He asked gently. He got no response. "Um, they're really g-good, and you draw me n-nicer looking than I ac-actually am. Like, my nose is much w-wider than that a-and, well, my freckles make my face look lopsided cuz’ there’s a lot on my left and not many on my right, b-but I think you got my h-hair right." Connor handed him back the sketchbook book silently, keeping eye contact with the ground. He took it back and continued looking through it, stopping on a hastily drawn self-portrait.

  


Real Connor looked less sad than sketch Connor. In the sketch his eyes drooped, hair sagged, he just looked...miserable. Is this how he see's himself? Connor was much more attractive - in an entirely general way nothing more - than this drawing with kinder eyes than one would expect from an angry boy. A much higher and slightly nasally voice than one would think the “school delinquent” would have, not that he ever did anything detrimental. "Connor?" Silence. "It's okay if you don't want to talk, but is this how you see yourself?"

  


Connor's hands twitched and moved to pick the nail polish off his thumb. He looked stoic like he was holding something in. "Yeah." He whispered.

  


"I think you're much more attractive than this drawing." Evan froze. _Now, look what you've done! You should think before you speak, now he's going to avoid you!_

  


Connor just laughed. He laughed. It wasn't big or silent only light. Like the air was being puffed out of his lungs and his voice followed gently like a butterfly in the wind. Evan smiled, he made Connor Murphy laugh. "Uh, thanks, Evan."

  


"Y-you're welcome, sorry that-"

  


"Evan, apologizing." The annoyance and stoic look returned.

  


"Ha yeah. I'm pretty sure the bell is going to ring soon." Evan got up brushing his pants clean of any grass or dirt while being careful about his cast. Connor followed slowly and silently, taking his book back. His left thumb didn't have any more nail polish on it. They walked off of the field then Evan stopped. "People are going to stare at us...aren't they."

  


Connor scowled at a group of guys loving their direction. "Look, I can just fucking walk on my own if it's that embarrassing." He took long strides getting in front of Evan.

  


He sped up walking with Connor again. "That's not what I meant."

  


"Of course it isn't."

  


Evan stopped feeling his anxiety bubble over. "Connor, stop." His voice cracking. "I'm not mean, I'm just nervous, I'm always nervous. I'm always anxious and if that's a fu-freaking problem so be it. I'm not trying to hurt you." Connor's eyes met his.

  


"I know, I was just acting like a dick. So which class are you going to?"

 

“AP Environmental Science.” Evan smiled

 

Connor nodded, smiling a bit. "Okay, Hansen." He walked away, slipping behind the walls of the northern hall

 

"Evan!" A feminine voice called to his right. Zoe Murphy. "Why are you hanging out with my brother? Is he threatening you? What did he do?" She looked worried, her eyebrows furrowed.

 

Evan blushed, Zoe Murphy actually cared about him. "N-no nothing like that. He's my...f-friend." Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. "It's okay, really."

 

She nodded looking away, puffing out her cheeks. Looking back up at Evan a hint of something happy shone in her eyes, maybe hope? "Just - if he does something tell me." She patted his shoulder causing his face to flush. She was so nice to him.

 

It's just pity.

 

He let her walk away trying not to overanalyze anything. He could hear Connor in his mind, telling him to get out of his head, for once it worked. Evan walked into his Environmental Science class taking his seat next to the window. Mrs. Goodkite, an energetic middle-aged woman, started taking attendance calling out their names. Looking out the window, he could see windows to the other classrooms and - wait was that Connor. Fumbling with his backpack, he pulled out his phone and finally saved Connor's number.

 

**Evan:**

Are you in class?

 

**Connor:**

who the fuck is this?

 

**Evan:**

Sorry, it's me, Evan.

I think I can see you outside of my class.

 

**Connor:**

shit, really?

 

**Evan:**

So you're not in class?

 

"Mr. Hansen! Please if you're going to be on your phone at least pretend to pay attention!" She looked annoyed at him, but not angry. As much as a relief that was it didn't help that the students around him were laughing. His face felt hot, mind racing he looked out the window again. Now everyone thinks you're stupid, worthless, lazy, dumb - his phone vibrated.

 

**Connor:**

...no

are you pissed or something

Evan?

 

**Evan:**

Sorry, the teacher got upset. Go to class, please.

 

**Connor:**

why should I?

 

**Evan:**

I'll hang out after school if you go to class.

 

**Connor:**

...uh okay?

i'm just going back because it's art and that's not too much work. not because you told me to.

 

**Evan:**

Thank you.

 

Thankfully they were going over the syllabus, which didn't require that much concentration, so he pulled out one of his books on trees. Evan looked back out the window to see Connor walking to the art building. Good. It was strange for him to be thinking about someone else's wellbeing instead of criticizing himself. Opening The Sibley Guide to Trees, he let the class pass by him. He'd been in environmental studies three times already if anything he knew the class better than the teacher at this point. His phone vibrated again. A picture of Connor. Opening the text, he saw a sketch of Evan staring out the window not just a couple minutes earlier. He smiled going back to the section on the black willow, which was the most widely distributed native willow in America.

 

He read up on silver maples and chestnut oaks before the bell rang, Mrs. Goodkite letting him walk out without a "talk." Rounding the corner Jared met him outside their Economics class, he had a smug look on his face, like he knew something.

 

"So I heard you sat with your boyfriend at lunch, or wait do you still have a pathetic crush on Zoe?"

 

"Jared!" Speed walking into the classroom he sat in his seat. "Keep your voice down, p-please."

 

"Everyone knows you're hanging out with "School Shooter Chic" already. News travels fast my friend." Jared chuckled.

 

Evan didn't usually get upset. He was upset. His blood boiled. Connor wasn't a bad guy, he was just misunderstood? Looking at his desk silently he knew he should speak up, defend Connor, something. "J-Jared, he's not a bad guy." _Wow so impressive, how weak are you?_ "I know people say stuff about him, but m-maybe they over exaggerate." Jared scoffed shaking his head.

 

"Evan, he threw a printer at a teacher when we were in elementary."

 

"Let's just drop it, I don't want to talk about it..." he mumbled, pulling out his packet he worked silently. You're such a terrible friend. Letting people talk. Then again, what are they saying about you? Do they even know you're there? Do they even know your name? Evan dug his nails into the hem of his shirt, kneading into it nervously. His chest hurt, oh no his chest hurt. I'm dying, I need to get out. Raising his hand, he frantically looked at the teacher and pointed to the hallway. People are going to laugh at you when you walk out, you loser. Evan made it out the door and into the hall, stumbling into the restroom he sat down on the floor of the biggest stall in the back.

 

He was still shaking except now unwanted tears were coming out of his eyes, choking out sobs he hugged his knees. The door swung open. Evan covered his mouth hoping they wouldn't notice him. The person was pacing back and forth across the tiled room. All he could see were black boots and jeans

 

"Fuck this bullshit!" They yelled, kicking a stall wall they screamed. "Nothing I ever fucking do is ever fucking right!" Another kick. They stopped. Moving towards the other handicapped stall in the restroom he shut the door and locked himself in, planting himself on the floor. Black painted nails picked at his shoelaces. Connor.

 

Evan sniffled as quietly as he could, taking in a shaky breath until another sob escaped into the air. And then another. And then more and then there was no stopping the tears. The world spun around him, every little thing being blown up in his fragile brain. He felt like he was drowning in his own thoughts, grasping for a scrap of relief.

 

"Evan?" Connor asked, still sounding displeased.

 

He responded in a sob, digging his fingers into his right palm, leaving little red crescents surrounded in white. From under the door, he could see Connor pull his own legs in towards him. Evan's sobs were the only thing interrupting their mutual silence. So they sat there in silence letting their moments of what they felt was weakness pass.

 

"Con-Connor?" Evan's voice trembled, slowly getting up to open his stall he shuttered. Panic attacks were never fun, obviously.

 

"What?"

 

"Can I go over there?"

 

"...."

 

Evan opened the door and stood in front of Connor's. "Can you open it?" The door opened, and Evan sat next to him. His long hair was hanging sadly around his face. He always looked something in between the lines of angry and bored, except now. He stared ahead of him, brows furrowed, grimacing. "Are you okay?"

 

"What the fuck do you think?" He snapped, unlocking his gaze from the wall. "I don't know Hansen, it's not like I just flipped shit in the restroom! Oh wait, I fucking did!" Evan shrank back, regretting his previous question. It was a dumb question to ask anyway.  He continued staring at the panicked teen next to him, he wasn't shaking, but he was unnaturally still. "What the fuck do you want, Hansen? Are you going to tell them about how crazy Connor Murphy is? Huh?" He growled moving closer to the corner.

 

He was backing himself into a corner, he was going to panic more if he kept that up. _Do something!_ "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're anxious and misunderstood. I'm anxious, too."

 

"Stop it!" Connor yelled kicking Evan's legs away from him.

 

"I think you're nice. You let me ramble until you know I'm freaking out, then stop me. You didn't let me walk away because I was nervous, you told me to stay. No one tells me to stay. They let me go and-"

 

"Shut the fuck up!" He yelled, a hint of pain lingering in his voice like a kicked puppy.

 

"A-and you're my friend so y-"

 

"What did you mean in your note?"

 

My note? Oh, that letter. The one that started this whole fiasco. It's hasn't all been bad though.

 

"What did you mean by your hope is pinned on Zoe?"

 

Evan gave Connor a blank stare. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt again, picking at a stray thread. "I really like your sister, not like as in friend as-"

 

"She doesn't like you and never will, so forget it." Connor scoffed, venom dripping from his voice.

 

Evan's heart sank. It sank farther than it had ever before. Of course, she didn't like him, whoever could. Who could ever love a mess of broken parts, like himself? No one should have to see his face, his flaws, his screw ups. No one. Pathetic. The voice in his head screamed. Worthless. It taunted. Unloved. He nodded to himself. "Okay..." He didn't want to forget it, he wanted to fight it, but what's the point if he'll lose anyway.

 

Connor's shoulders relaxed before he leaned his head on the wall. They were back to an uncomfortable silence. Evan, seeing he wasn't wanted, got up leaving Connor on the ground. Silent and empty.

 

"Bye..." Evan shuddered. Connor looked up and nodded for a second. And he walked out, leaving him behind.

  



	4. He's Flying Blind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. Had a rough day on Thursday.

Evan gazed out into the hallway from the doorway of the computer lab. In his hands, he clutched a letter, not to himself, to Connor. He'd written it twice on paper and ran over to the computer lab to type and print it out. Not much earlier Evan contemplated calling Connor, but he could never hold a phone call, especially after the incident in the restroom. He half hoped that Connor would walk out of a nearby classroom and make his way to his locker. Taking a shaky breath, Evan took a long couple strides shakily folding the letter and slipping it into the slots on the locker door. Is this the right locker? What if it isn't? Panic set in, dear god he messed up. 

 

"Mom, I already fucking said I just needed a break. Just fuck off, okay? I can't do anything when you guys are always on my ass." Connor was leaving the office, angry with his mother over the phone, thankfully facing away from Evan. 

 

Evan stumbled backward eyeing the entrance of the school building. Letting his wobbly legs take him outside he didn't try to look behind him. Outside was warm with a slight breeze, a little colder than lunch had been, but still sunny. The fresh air felt perfect, like a blessing, he sighed sitting down on a bench. Walking home didn't sound like such a great option, so he let the breeze run through his short honey blond hair, kissing his freckles, cooling his flushed cheeks. It had been a long day, he pulled out his notebook.

 

> Dear Evan Hansen,
> 
>  
> 
> Today could have been a good, but it wasn't. It wasn't because I think I hurt someone. I wrote him a letter, and I don't think he'll care. I got scared, and I messed something up because of it. Good job. I'm a terrible person, no one should ever have to talk or see me, I should just disappear. It's not like anyone would notice and if the one person I think would notice actually did, he'd probably be happy. I said sorry a lot today, less than usual until after lunch.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so scared to be invisible, but so scared to be noticed. I'm such a mess.
> 
>  
> 
> Sincerely,
> 
>  
> 
> Me

 

He reread it, shutting the blue notebook that was covered in ink stains and taped on post-it notes.

 

"Another one of those letters?" Connor sat to the right of him, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him. "Two in one day seems like overkill." Evan froze, staring at his shoes. "I read your letter." The wind blew Connor's thin copper hair across his face, his jaw was relaxed. His long slender hands reached up to tuck his bangs behind his left ear, glancing at Evan. "Look, you don't need to apologize for me being a moody dick. I had a fight with my mom over text earlier, so I freaked...and took it out on you." When Evan didn't acknowledge the oldest Murphy sibling, he pulled out his phone.

 

Evan's phone received a text.

 

**Connor:**

 

Dear Evan Hansen,

i'm sorry.

 

**Evan:**

 

Dear Connor Murphy,

Thank you.

 

Connor chuckled when he received his reply. "Do you need a ride home?"

 

"It's okay," Evan muttered, eyes shifting away from his shoes and onto Connor's face. He gave Evan his second unimpressed look. "Sure, I live on Sunrise." He received a small smirk that bordered a smile, which warmed his heart. When a yellow Toyota Corolla rolled up in front of them Evan's stomach did a flip, of course, Zoe was driving them home. Casually, he picked up his bag and swung it onto one shoulder while Connor grumpily lifted his and yanked open the car door for Evan.

 

"Oh hey, Evan." She smiled from the driver's seat as he got into the backseat, but glared at her brother.

 

"Hi, Z-Zoe." _Don't even think about it._

 

"We giving you a ride?"

 

"Yeah, we are." Connor interrupted, dragging his bag into the car. The car ride was absolutely silent, not even a "how was your day" or a simple friendly "hello" between the siblings. Even dropping Evan off was mildly awkward as he received a little wave from Zoe and a laid-back nod from Connor. He watched the car speed away, feeling fatigued. It'd been a pretty exhausting day, not to mention the older Murphy's unpredictable mood swings. 

 

The living room filled with sunlight when Evan opened the door. Sluggishly taking out his homework he sat on the couch with a calculus textbook and college ruled paper. The warmth from the light was a comfy blanket on his exhausted frame.

 

Evan's ringtone snapped his eyes open from an accidental nap. Untangling his limbs from papers and books to retrieve his phone from the dinner table from across the room. A call from Connor strangely late in the day, five in the evening to be exact. "Uh, Connor is it okay if I-" 

 

"Can I come over, if I stay here I'll go fucking insane." 

 

"I guess-"

 

"Thanks." He hung up leaving Evan without an explanation to stare dismally at the messy house around him. Evan picked up the papers that had fallen on the ground from his struggle from waking up on the couch and shut his textbooks. Looking down at his crinkled shirt he frowned feeling the need to change. Opening his closet, he settled on a blue t-shirt with a Sequoia on it. The doorbell rang, startling him. Walking down the hall, he peeked out of the door to see Connor sitting in front of the door. Why are his shoulders slumped like that? Is he okay?

 

"C-come in. It's kind of messy, sorry about that."

 

"You change your shirt?" Connor asked sulking his way inside.

 

"Yeah, my other one was wrinkled...I fell asleep." Evan mumbled shutting the door. "Are you okay?"

 

Connor gave him the are you fucking kidding me, Hansen looks, but shook his head instead of giving a verbal answer. Connor stood uncomfortably by the doorway. "So what do you want to do?"

 

"I-I actually have homework, so if we could stay here that would be good..." 

 

"Okay. Do you have any paper I can draw on?"

 

"Yeah, just take off your shoes, and we can go into my room." Evan smiled nervously as he waited for Connor to take off his boots, placing them next to his own tennis shoes. His, of course, black socks had little white and blue pinwheels on them which made Evan grin. "I like your socks."

 

Connor looked down embarrassed, regaining his composure he smirked. "I stole them from Zoe." Following the shorter boy to his room, he sat on the edge of the bed while Evan dug in his desk for a couple sheets of printer paper. "Nice room."

 

"Y-you think?" Evan blushed handing him the paper. His room was mainly blues and whites, posters of trees covering the walls with a few photos of his mom and him in the bookshelf. It was quaint. 

 

"Very...Evan Hansen, quiet, tree obsessed, and blue in more ways than one." Connor quipped laying down, paper and pencil next to him. "Sorry, may I?"

 

"Sure, I'll be working. I can turn on my music if you want, or we can talk." 

 

He pursed his lips and sat up. "Let's talk. So who are you, Evan Hansen?"

 

_ Oh dear… _

  
  


"Y-you want to know about me?" Evan asked, staring blankly at Connor from his desk. He fumbled with a pen in his hand. You're not interesting. You're a screwup, a mess, alone.

 

"Well?"

 

"You don't want to know about me...I'm boring and quiet and-"

 

"Oh my fucking god Evan." Connor chuckled sitting up, running a hand through his hair. He smiled, a genuine smile, eyes shining with amusement and teeth bared, but unthreatening. Evan took comfort in that smile. It was different than anyone else's smile, even Zoe's. "Evan, calm down."

 

The honey blond haired boy flushed pink. "Sorry." He apologized, scratching the back of his neck. "I'm seventeen, I like trees and the color blue, o-obviously." Connor nodded a bit unsatisfied.

 

"I'm seventeen, I like art and the colors black and red. Now past that bullshit, why do you write letters to yourself?" 

 

"My therapist told me to." 

 

Silence filled the room, Connor went back to laying down. Evan turned back to his desk taking out his calculus homework. The first few problems were simple, he flew by them until his anxiety kicked in. He probably thinks I'm weird, oh my gosh I'm so weird. He's so embarrassed by me. 

 

"Why do you go to a therapist?"

 

Evan put down the pen, thinking up an acceptable answer. _Because you're depressed and suicidal_. The voice in his head growled. "B-because I have anxiety." 

 

"Do you like your therapist?" Connor asked playing with his bangs. He looked calm like his questions were normal icebreakers. Evan nodded slowly thinking of the few times he'd come out of a session feeling better. "Can I draw you? With your permission this time?" He nodded again.

 

Connor laid himself on the bed, stomach down, facing Evan's desk. Tapping the regular wooden pencil - mechanical pencils helped Evan as an anxiety outlet but annoyed those around him - he stared at Evan waiting for him to continue his homework. After a while, the swishes of graphite on paper were heard in the still silence. _Connor Murphy is drawing you..._

 

He refocused on his math, glancing at the ordinarily standoffish Connor Murphy laying on his bed, content, and silent.

 

"You're staring."

 

"S-sorry." Evan stuttered yanking his attention back to the work at hand. "Why did you come over?"

 

"I got in a shitty fight with my dumbass parents about skipping second period, and then they fucking mentioned Zoe talked to you. Apparently, I forced you to be my friend, which is a shit thing to say. I'm not even sure if you think I'm your friend." Connor said matter of factly continuing to sketch Evan, who was still in shock Connor had let all that out. He'd never heard him say much before that week. He usually sat in the corner of his classes brooding in the background, this Connor was so much more human and likable.

 

"I think you're my friend," Evan mumbled.

 

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Same to you." He went back to his paper. "Wait stay still I need to draw your freckles."

 

"I hate my freckles." He blurted out, blushing. "You don't need to draw them." 

 

"Yes, I do. They're cute." His eyes went wide, knuckles white as he clenched the pencil in his hand. "Unique, I meant unique! Here just - take it!" He shoved Evan the paper, who carefully took it from him. 

 

He was in awe. It seemed amazing to him that someone could think of him as this drawing. Nicer nose than his, shinier eyes, wavier hair, overall better looking. "Thank you." He took out a thumbtack, pinning the drawing above his desk next to the picture of a redwood when he'd visited his dad. "Do you want to watch a movie?" Evan got up from his desk deciding to leave the rest of his homework for tomorrow morning. Connor followed him out of the room, shoulders hunched.

 

"Fuck, I guess what do you have?"

 

"Netflix. We don't really spend much money on stuff, but Netflix is special." Walking to the living room he turned on the tv, plopping himself onto the carpet floor. "Have you ever seen The Little Prince?"

 

"I've read it."

 

"We'll watch that the if you want."

 

Connor shrugged sitting on the floor next to him. They started the movie Evan's eyelids grew heavy as the opening French lullaby played. Closed then open then finally closed.

 

* * *

 

 

"Evan, wake up." Someone whispered into his hair. "Your mom is home." 

 

Evan's eyes fluttered open. A jacket was on his upper torso like a blanket, looking to his right he saw Connor. _You're on his shoulder! Get off you freak!_ Evan sprung away from him flustered, "Sorry. Sorry. Oh my gosh, I'm so so-"

 

"Evan shut the fuck up." Connor rolled his eyes, but something was missing. His jacket. Scars littered the lanky boy's arms in short white lines and some scabs that seemed new. 

 

"Evan?" Mrs. Hansen called from the bathroom. "I'm leaving for work, I ordered pizza for you and Connor. We'll talk more tomorrow morning!" she walked into the living room out of her scrubs. Evan lifted himself off of the ground giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Love you, nice to meet you, Connor!" She ran out of the door waving goodbye.

 

"Sorry I fell asleep on your shoulder, I mean." 

 

"It's fucking fine. You seemed tired, and it's not like you're heavy or anything."

 

"You talked to my mom?"

 

"Just a bit."

 

The doorbell rang. Wait didn't his mom say she ordered pizza. _Oh no no no no no._ Evan didn't want to answer the door to a complete stranger and mess up the change or say the wrong thing or seem weird or-

 

"I can get it if you want," Connor noted as he watched the smaller teen's face fall. He got up grabbing the money on the counter and opened the door. Evan dug his face into the ball of cloth in his hands not quite realizing it was Connor's. It smelled like pine and lavender (also maybe a little weed), strangely. _You're acting weird._ The little voice in his head droned, he couldn't quite hear what they'd said, but Connor came back with a half mushroom and half cheese pizza. He put it on the floor and sat down again waiting for Evan to join him.

 

"H-here's your jacket." 

 

"Thanks." Connor took it back opening the box. "You okay? You seem red." Over the afternoon the Murphy son had lost his deadpanned look he carried around school and traded it for smiles and smirks. 

 

It's not because I smelled your jacket or anything. "I'm fine," Evan said grabbing a slice of plain cheese while Connor grabbed one with mushroom. "Did you like the movie?" 

 

Connor nodded, mouth full of food. Swallowing it, he commented, "The animation was pretty fucking great, and the story was cute." Connor's phone rang from the kitchen counter. "Hold on it's Zoe." He picked up, she was obviously yelling at him. "Will you shut the fuck up? Jeez, I'm at Evan's." he snapped, anger zapping away his smile.

 

A part of Evan felt sad. He really liked that smile?

 

Connor hung up on Zoe, hands in fists once again. He fumed from afar glaring at his phone. Evan hoped he wouldn't throw it. His eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes filled with anger.

 

"Do you need to leave?" Evan asked quietly.

 

"What do you want me to?" Connor glared shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "Cause I can fucking get out of your hair, I can just leave."

 

"N-no, I was just wondering." 

 

Connor's shoulders drooped when he sat down, back facing Evan, he stared at his hands. Tugged at his ear silently, a heavy tension settled in the air. "I should go."

 

"Oh, okay," Evan mumbled trying to hide his disappointment. "Um, I'll see you at school?"

 

He walked over to his shoes and put them on, picking up his bag by the door. "Yeah, I guess."

 

Evan never even touched his pizza by the end of the night.

 

* * *

 

 

When Evan got to school, he didn't expect Connor to be, well, high. He was just like the day he'd pushed Evan to the floor yelling at him, almost empty, a shell of a boy. When he saw the taller copper-haired teen, he smiled and waved when he got near, only to get a pair of blue eyes, with that brown stripe, rolled in his direction.

 

"A-are you okay?" 

 

"Fuck, I don't know. I mean why do you care?" 

 

That felt like a punch to the stomach. "Be-because we're friends." Evan shrank back, Connor's eyes full of rage boring into his soul. "Sorry. I'll go." He shuffled away not quite understanding what had just happened. He'd smelled like weed, but was more agitated than ever. Isn't weed supposed to calm people down? Rounding the corner, Jared stopped him. 

 

"Evan, he how's that Murphy been?" He wiggled his eyebrows obnoxiously. "Done anything I wouldn't do?"

 

Evan didn't really react this time. "I think something is wrong with Connor..." Scratching his arm pursed his lips, gnawing on them noticeably worried.

 

"Well let's see, he's crazy, he throws printers, he snaps at random people, he's an asshole!" 

 

"Stop! J-just stop. It's something else." He trailed off.

 

"Evan, dude, you might as well just go to class. I don't get why the hell you're even worrying about that freak." Jared grabbed his arm only to be pushed away. Evan's usually anxiety-ridden face was twisted into a sneer he'd never seen before.

 

"Jared! He's not a freak!" His face fell. "I-I'm sorry. I s-should go." Stumbling away he escaped into his calculus classroom. If Jared called his name, he certainly hadn't heard it.

 

"Morning, Evan."

 

"M-morning, Mr. Z-Zitney." Ducking over to his desk in the back Evan let out a shaky breath. Taking out his notebook he clicked his pen to think of what to say.

>  
> 
> Dear Evan Hansen, 
> 
>  
> 
> It's only seven thirty in the morning, and it's been a bad day. Connor is mad for some reason, I snapped at Jared, I'm a terrible person. Why do I try? Why am I alive? I forgot to finish my environmental science packet since I had someone over, it was nice, but I think I've scared him away again. I'm always messing up somehow. I'm just a burden. I'll finish this later...
> 
>  

Evan closed the book, messing with the hem of yet another one of his signature polo shirts, this one had loose threads already, worn from Evan's fingernails and thumbs continually picking at it. He thought of trees. You should have died. No, no trees. Trees are a no. You should have broken your neck. No more trees. You could have finally let it all go. But you failed. Failure. He shuttered. Failure! Deep breath in, deep breath out. Waste of space. In, out. Broken. In, out. Pathetic. In, out. Burden. His hands shook, panic overcoming him like a tidal wave, he couldn't swim. He floundered in his flood thoughts watching tears quietly drip onto the desk in front of him. Tunnel vision clouding out everything except his own insecurities. He didn't sob or cry out. He just sat there staring at the desk.

 

The bell for class rang.

 

He blinked, still feeling disconnected with the world. He floated thoughtlessly in an ocean of worry, not quite noticing anything or anyone. 

 

"Evan?" A hand pressed against his arm.

 

Looking to his left Alana Beck stood there, eyebrows knit in worry. "Evan, are you okay?" She asked.

 

He was about to nod, but changed his mind and admitted there was something wrong with a slight shake of his head. He felt groggy. "Just stressed." He croaked out wiping his eyes. 

 

"Oh, okay I get that. I just worry for my acquaintances." She gave her signature fake sunny smile sitting down in front of him. She was nice, in an "I want people to like me" way, according to Connor. Oh god, Connor. 

 

He put his head down, trying not to put any weight on the cast on his left arm. Feeling utterly hopeless he didn't do his classwork, which wasn't unusual for his bad days. Mr. Zitney had apparently read his file if he wasn't stopping Evan, making it a bit easier to take a break for once. He pulled out his tree book and focusing on Tulip trees. 

  
  


"Tulip trees are one of the most distinctive and attractive trees. Native from Saratoga and Rensselaer Counties westward along Lake Ontario to Lake Erie, it becomes more abundant southward in deep, rich, moist soils. Its large tulip-like, greenish yellow flowers have given the name "tulip tree." The light, soft, brittle, not strong, straight-grained, light yellow or brown in color wood is usually made into lumber and interior finishes."

 

He got a text from Connor choosing to ignore it. What if he's hurt? You're a lousy friend. Giving in, he opened his message app. 

 

**Connor:**

i'm gonna skip study hall.

wanna tag along?

 

**Evan:**

No.

 

Connor:

k your loss

 

Evan gritted his teeth staring at his phone. Maybe Connor wasn't so nice. He remembered the day before, lunch, sketching him, the movie, pizza. All good things. Maybe they outweighed the bad?

 

* * *

 

 

Surprisingly Connor was in study hall, staring out the window. Evan tried to sit quietly, wanting to avoid confrontation with the hostile senior. He failed.

 

Connor looked at him and sighed returning his gaze back to the window. "Yeah, I'm not skipping." 

 

"Why not?"

 

"...because I chose not to, what more do you want?" 

 

Evan squirmed in his seat, opening his mom's old laptop to start his AP English placement essay. Next to him, Connor bit his already short nails, no he wasn't biting his nails. His teeth dug into the tips of his fingers until one bled, swearing under his breath he grabbed a tissue from his bag. "D-Does that hurt?"

 

Not taking his eyes away from the tissue on his right pointer finger, he replied "Sometimes. Typing on a keyboard hurts." When it stopped bleeding, he tapped his fingers on the table, skipping the recently bleeding one. His fingers were long but obviously messed up. The jagged skin on the tips of his fingers ripped cuticles that should have been next to the chipping black nail polish. "So I was high this morning."

 

"Oh..."

 

"I was a fucking asshole."

 

"K-Kinda..."

 

"Sorry."

 

"It's fine."

 

Connor took in a sharp breath, waiting for Evan to say something, anything, so he did. 

 

"Can I sit with you at lunch again?" He asked keeping his eyes glued on the laptop screen. "Sorry, maybe that's t-"

 

"Yeah, please." Connor interrupted, not quite frowning and not really smiling. "That would be pretty fucking sweet."

 


	5. He's Not In Line

 

Evan started to notice things after Connor came over on that Tuesday during their first week of senior year. He smiled with his eyes, weed made him feel empty, he regularly fought with Zoe, he would get angry a lot, he could be destructive, silent, or just plain cruel. Sometimes Evan felt like the friendship wasn't a good idea. Maybe they were too different, but other times they got along. His own anxiety lessened when Connor was in a good mood, and Connor was in a good mood when people didn't ridicule him. Usually, he'd come over after a fight at home, which was often, and let Evan do his homework while he drew.

 

But today was different. Today Evan was at Connor's house, the front door to be exact. The ragged looking teen hadn't been at school for the last half of their second week back from summer. Knocking timidly, he mentally prepared for a door to the face. Instead, a tired-faced, middle-aged woman greeted him at the door, a smile plastered onto her face. 

 

"Oh hello, Zoe isn't here right-"

 

"I'm looking for C-Connor." He blurted out, receiving a surprised look.

 

"Connor Murphy? My son? What did he do?

 

"N-nothing, he's a friend."

 

She blinked and recomposed herself. Opening the door wider, Evan slipped in quietly, her smile returned. "So you know Connor?"

 

Evan nodded.

 

"You're his friend?"

 

He nodded again, earning a grin from her.

 

"I'm Cynthia Murphy, it's nice to meet you..."

 

"Evan. E-Evan Han-Hansen." _Wow, real eloquent there, stuttering your own name._ He took her outstretched hand and carefully shook it, hoping his palms weren't sweaty.

 

"Connor's upstairs."

 

Evan wandered up the stairs taking and his surroundings. The walls were a crisp sandy color in contrast to the picture perfect dark wood furniture. It was like walking into a magazine, the ones his mom would scoff at and rolled her eyes. Everything was perfect, and then there were the doors upstairs. The one on his right- glittery stars on it with a significant dent in the middle. To his left, the door had many smaller cuts and a cracked door frame. Evan could guess which one was Connor's. He knocked on the left door.

 

"What?!" Connor yelled from inside.

 

"I-It's E-Evan."

 

The door opened. "What?"

 

Evan stared at him from a couple feet away. His eyes had large purple shadows underneath, he looked...sad, in a way. Oh shit. Oh shit! "Connor, why is there blood on your hand?" He was pulled in by his clean hand.

 

"Shut the fuck up, Hansen."  He snapped and grabbing a paper towel from a desk drawer and rolling up his sleeve to blot the fresh wounds. "Fuck."  He looked up at Evan fearfully, something he had never seen before, and never wanted to see again. "Please don't say anything. I scratched the scabs off, okay? Fuck."

 

Evan stood awkwardly. "Why?" You know why.

 

"Because I want to die! Because all I do is hurt other people! No one would even miss me, not that I can blame them." He laughed, his eyes watering.

 

"I'd miss you."

 

"Of course you would, you're Evan Hansen."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

Connor mumbled sitting on the foot of his large bed with gray and black sheets. Rubbing his face, he took in a sharp breath. He was inhaling knives trying to cut the answer out of himself. "You're Evan Hansen, the boy that feels too much. Why the fuck do you have to make this so goddamn difficult?" His hands shook. "I had a plan until you came along. Now, sometimes, I don't want to die, and that's fucking terrifying because all I've ever wanted to do is end it all." 

 

"Sorry?"

 

"It's fine..."

 

"Do you want a hug?"

 

"I don't give a shit."

 

That was definitely a "sure" in Connor's strange version of English. Evan sat next to him wrapping his arms around Connor, who quivered silently. How funny. Aren't you the one that jumped from a tree? Oh, I'm sorry, you "fell."  He pushed away his negative thoughts desperately. This wasn't about him. He felt tears drop onto his forearm, running onto Connor's jeans. The taller boy curled into Evan. They stayed that way for a while. 

 

It felt nice to hug someone that wasn't his mom. It's set off a comfortable warmth in his chest. When Connor detached, he couldn't help but feel a little...disappointed.

 

"Thanks." His voice was hoarse, nose pink, just like under his eyes. "Sorry."

 

"It's fine. Do you w-wanna go on a walk."

 

Connor paused, thinking for a moment. "I've got a better idea." He got up motioning for Evan to follow, he did.

 

Apparently, he had a car that he wasn't allowed to ride to school but somehow convinced his mom to let him take Evan somewhere. It was a black Toyota with enough cd's to start a store. Evan was going through them, like Connor asked, to find some decent driving music, except he didn't know any of this music. He saw four Mother Mother albums remembering the pin, the pin that started it all. "How about The Sticks by Mother Mother?"

 

Saying nothing the long-haired teen grabbed the cd and it and pushed some buttons, starting the album. His fingers tapped to the music as he looked over the intersection. Surprisingly Connor was a careful driver, only drumming on the steering wheel every so often, keeping his eyes on the road most of the time, staying under the speed limit. He glanced at Evan who was pulling at the hem of his shirt.

 

"Stop destroying your shirts, they're good shirts." 

 

"O-okay. Where are we going?" Evan asked pulling out his phone. 

 

"Do you like surprises?"

 

Evan shook his head, surprises were a bit much for him. Like his third grade party, a week after Evan's first anxiety attack.

 

"We're going to an orchard."

 

"An orchard?" 

 

"Well you like trees, and I like abandoned places, so I comprised." Connor made a left onto the freeway. "Shit, do you have anywhere to be tomorrow?"

 

Evan shook his head no.

 

His face brightened flashing that Connor Murphy smile. "Perfect." 

 

Connor had a fantastic singing voice, maybe a little worn out from yelling most of the time, but equally soothing. He first sang under his breath, nodding to the music, but kept his eyes on the road. Evan squirmed in his seat. He needed something to keep his hands busy, or he'd start overthinking.

 

"You okay?"

 

"Yeah!"

 

"That was way too enthusiastic to be true." Connor sighed, running his hand through his hair. "How was school?"

 

Evan froze, it hadn't been a good day. "I-it was fine, could have been worse..." It couldn't have been worse, you mean. He pulled a stray thread from his shirt out of habit.

 

"Well that was a load of shit, and you know it." Silence filled the car. "Evan...just tell me the truth."

 

Evan swallowed the ball in his throat, he felt like throwing up. "I-I always have bad days. My anx...problems just make things difficult," His voice cracked, "it doesn't even m-matter." 

 

Connor frowned, tearing his eyes away from the road, his tone softened. "Of course it matters. Fuck, I get having a shit day, just tell me." He continued driving. Except, it was different. Connor wasn't singing under his breath anymore. His knuckles were white, gripping the wheel. Cold eyes glaring ahead with brows furrowed.

 

Look what you did. Burden. Useless du-

 

"We're getting ice cream. I know a place." The taller boy interrupted the torturous thoughts that played on repeat in his head.

 

Evan let out a timid "okay" from the passenger's seat. 

 

Connor took a turn by a truck stop, according to the clock they'd sat in sickening silence for thirty minutes. He parked in front of a small ice cream parlor, A La Mode. Gently patting Evan's shoulder, he gestured to the building. The decor reminded Evan of a little city cafe with a mural of a street on the inside and dark wood furniture, it was quaint. 

 

A woman in a blue apron smiled from behind the counter. "Connor, I was wondering when you'd be back."

 

He shrugged taking Evan's wrist and pulling him to the display cases. "What do you want?" An array of ice cream spread across the counter in a rainbow of colors.

 

"Uh, oh, is one scoop of ch-chocolate chip cookie dough on-on a cone okay?" 

 

"Jamie, we'll have a single scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough on a cone and a double scoop of mint chip on a cone too." 

 

Jamie grinned taking out what she needed. Connor stood next to him staring at his phone. "I need to take this." He grumbled apparently taking a call. "What the fuck do you want Zoe?!" Storming out the door, he left Evan alone with the overly happy employee of A La Mode.

 

"Connor's never brought anyone here, you must be very special. He's been coming here since he could drive always getting the same thing. I told him it's too far of a drive to make and he should just go somewhere closer to home, but that boy never listens..." she handed Evan his cone and peered out the window. "Another fight with his sister. Oh, here he comes."

 

The front door swung open, and Connor stalked in. Pulling out his wallet he took out a twenty, pushing it towards Jamie he took the cone. "Keep the change." His hand pressed against Evan's back as he led him out. Walking into the sun Connor squinted taking them to the side of the building, there were two picnic tables and payphone. "Can you talk to Zoe?"

 

Evan's eyes widened, his cone tipping a bit to the side. "W-why?" 

 

"She's just being a bitch. Can you talk to her so she'll just leave me the fuck alone?" He snapped pushing his phone in the other boy's direction. "Please. After we eat our ice cream." 

 

Evan nodded. So he ate. Every once in a while Connor would look up at him and study his face or stare at his arm in the cast. The wind was gently keeping his signature copper long hair hovering over his shoulders, bangs off of his face.

 

When Evan finished, Connor had already eaten his cone in half the time. Leaning forward he bunched up his jacket sleeve and wiped a bit of ice cream off of Evan's face. His face felt like it was on fire. Nonchalantly the phone was pushed forward again. He took it, noticing there was no passcode, and tapped the call button next to Zoe's name. His hands shook, Evan hated phone calls.

 

She picked up. "Connor I swear t-"

 

"This is E-Evan." 

 

"Oh! Evan! You okay? My brother dragged you somewhere, right."

 

"N-no, I wanted t-to go." He stuttered glancing at Connor from across the table. He was scratching his nails angrily. 

 

"Can I just talk to you for a moment then?"

 

"O-okay."

 

* * *

 

"Stop doing that." Evan sighed throwing a look at Connor, who was basically tearing apart his own finger. "You're going to make yourself bleed."

 

"Fuck off. I don't care if I bleed." 

 

"Connor, please don't do that to yourself." 

 

He stopped, tilting his head sideways. Grabbing his keys from his jacket, he walked to the car. Evan stumbled behind him. Connor started up the car when they were both buckled and pulled out of the parking spot, this time turning into a back road. It was late afternoon now. "So time to tell me what happened today."

 

Your problems are stupid. He doesn't care. "I-I don't think it's necessary."

 

"Evan." Connor grit his teeth. 

 

"I got tripped in the hall and hit my arm."

 

"Who the hell tripped you?"

 

"I don't know."

 

"Why the fuck did they do that to you?" He interrogated until Evan went silent. He looked like he was ready to cry. "Evan!" 

 

"Because they do that! T-they just do that." His voice broke. "And I couldn't say anything! You shouldn't h-hang out with me."

 

Connor pulled over on the side of the road. Staring at Evan, he muttered. "Well they're assholes, and I'm not just gonna ditch you. We're both kinda outcasts."

 

"N-no I'm just s-sensitive. I'm sorry." 

 

"Let's just take you home. We can go to the orchard some other time. Did you get hurt when you got tripped?" 

 

Evan shook his head as the car turned around, leaving A La Mode behind and an apple orchard that would have to wait. The music was back on during the trip home, and no one uttered a word. 

 

When Connor stopped in front of Evan's house, he turned to the freckled honey blond. "Uh, I'll see you around Evan. Study hall?" 

 

"Study hall." He nodded. The black Toyota rolled away, leaving Evan on the sidewalk. The front door opened from behind. 

 

"Evan?" His mom called from inside, "Sweetheart, you didn't tell me you'd be going anywhere." She led him inside carefully with a nervous energy around her.

 

"W-well Connor and I just left on a whim. I went to his house, and we drove to an ice-cream place. Y-you'd like it, mom."

 

"Well, I'm glad you had fun, Evan. You deserve it." She watched him slink into his room, taking out her own homework. 

 

Evan shut his bedroom door, shucking off his day clothes for comfy pajamas. He didn't bother with a shower after the long day of running around. His phone indicated a text.

 

**Connor:**

night

 

He smiled typing back a response.

 

**Evan:**

Night!


	6. He's Tapping on the Glass

"So you went on a romantic ice cream date with Connor Murphy?" Jared cackled from Evan's desk chair. "Are you shitting me?!" A mischievous grin spread across his face, spinning wildly in the swivel chair.

 

"No! N-no it wasn't like that or anything. We just hung out...like friends or something."

 

"Do you know how pathetic you sound?"

 

Evan grimaced staring at his cast and the large black letters on his arm. He still felt weird, almost like he was floating. Why do you feel like this? You have a friend. Even in his excitement, a tug of uncertainty in the pit of his stomach. You have Connor. Or is it just pity. Looking up at Jared, who was still spinning around, babbling about some bet he cleared his throat. "J-Jared?"

 

"Sup!" He was still grinning.

 

"D-do you think Connor even likes me?" Evan stuttered fidgeting with his shirt. 

 

Jared stopped twirling around, giving Evan a confused face. "I don't know, don't you like..talk? I mean you must talk a lot considering how much you've ditched me for him." 

 

The freckled teen frowned biting on his lip. He didn't know what to say, but he had to say something. Jerk. The little voice in his head snapped like a rubber band. You're an insensitive jerk. Jared waited for a response. Waving his hand in front of Evan he spoke, not that Evan could hear him, he was too lost in thought to register it. Either way, it'd be impossible for Connor to like you. Look at yourself. Evan turned to look at his wall mirror. He looked...gross. _You're short. You have an ugly nose. Your freckles are too noticeable. You have terrible clothing choices. Just k-_

 

"Evan!"

 

His head snapped back towards Jared. "S-sorry!" He didn't mean to get lost in thought, it just sort of happened at the worst moments. Such as now. "Can w-we talk about something else?" 

 

His "family" friend's face fell. "I've actually gotta leave. My mom wants me home for dinner, Jane's birthday." Of course, Evan's had forgotten Jared's sister's birthday. He nodded letting the brunette pick up his things.

 

"Uh say h-happy b-birthday for me."

 

"Sure." Following Jared, who winced looking at the time. The front door clicked closed. And Evan was alone again. He thought about his quick conversation with Zoe, which was cut short by Connor's impatience. She asked him if it was all a joke first, then questioned how he could stand Connor, finishing it off with a couple complaints about her brother. According to her, he was moody, a stoner, and should be warned about. 

 

Evan believed her, he'd seen Connor switch from ecstatic to angry to dejected in a matter of minutes. His happiness was bright and sunny, but rare, marked by side smirks and shining eyes. Anger expressed through furrowed brows, white knuckles, and strained yelling. Then there was his sadness, it was quiet and worrying. He'd stare ahead of himself and just breathe slowly, almost as if he was waiting for the world to rewind.

 

As for the stoner comment, that was no surprise. Since he and Connor had been talking more the smell of weed became less frequent on his clothes and in the general air around him. He didn't deserve any kind of warning label though, or at least that's what Evan thought. Pulling his phone out of his pocket his fingers hovered over the keyboard. He wanted to say something. He'll think you're clingy. Just a burden. He put his phone back in his pocket. He didn't want to come off clingy. The empty silence got to him.

 

His mind raced as he walked back to his room. Turning on his phone, he searched up that band, what was it? Mother Mother. The fourth album that appeared looked intriguing, a rooster with five heads. Starting the YouTube playlist, he connected it to his radio and laid on his back picking a book from the stack on his nightstand. Evan cracked open the book letting his bookmark drop onto his chest.

 

His stomach rumbled. It'd been an hour since the album had ended and he was laying down in silence, fading in and out of sleep. His eyes felt heavy, too heavy to get up. They dropped closed.

 

* * *

 

"Evan, sweetheart?" He was shaken awake by gentle hands. "Evan, are you okay?" Heidi's soft hand was on his forehead, himself curled into a tight ball of warmth. "I think you're running a temperature, sit up?"

 

Pulling himself up he tried to speak but his throat!felt like it was on fire. His mom stood above him, wavy blonde hair spilling out of her ponytail. She seemed worried. "M-mom?" He croaked causing a coughing fit. She smiled softly at him as he slowly sat up. "I feel terrible..."

 

"I know. You've got a fever, little guy." Patting his arm, she took out her hair tie. "I'll make some soup, just lay down and relax." 

 

She left Evan in his bed, feeling awful. He felt like a burden, using up his mom's free time to take care of him. Just a waste of time aren't you. It was so much harder to block out the little voice when he was sick. Now that he'd thought about it he'd been going to bed late and waking up with sore throats for a couple days now. He was bound to get sick sometime soon. This was just unfair though. What if Connor got sick? _He probably hates you._ Achy and uncomfortable he got out of bed and turned on some music to drown out the little voice. He hoped he could. Returning to the bed, Evan curled in on himself trying not to lay on his cast.

 

It was Tuesday morning, and Evan was still sick. Thankfully he could get out of bed without wobbling his way to the kitchen for water, soup, or bread. Looking at the clock on the wall it ticked closer to noon, he wished he wasn't missing classes - it stressed him out. Evan sluggishly got out of bed, shuffling out the door and into the hallway. He sighed. God, he felt miserable. Finally stumbling into the kitchen, his stomach growled. Opening the door to an almost bare fridge, his heart sank. Can soup it is.

 

On Sunday Heidi and her son dropped by the doctor's office - thank goodness for healthcare - only to find out Evan had a virus. Apparently, he'd be miserable until Thursday or Friday. Which meant he'd miss his therapy appointment, damn.

 

Pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup his vision blackened for a second. This is the worst. Can in hand he sat down shakily, closing his eyes waiting for the worst to fizzle out.

 

The doorbell rang.

 

Evan looked at his clothes, grey sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt, no way he was answering that door.

 

It rang again, twice this time.

 

He stayed on the floor shutting his eyes tightly waiting for them to leave.

 

Three times.

 

_Fine, embarrass yourself and answer._ Evan slowly got up making his way to the door. _What if they laugh at you?_   Brushing away the thought, which was difficult, he opened the door. _Connor. Might I remind you of your horrid clothes? Stupid._ Connor looked up from his phone surprised.

 

"Oh you're here...wow you look like shit."

 

"I-I'm," he coughed for couple seconds, chest aching, "sick."

 

"Noted." Spying the can of soup still in Evan's hand he put it together. "Making food?"

 

Hanging his head, Evan looked down at his bare feet peeking out from under his sweatpants. "I'm not feeling g-good enough to cook."

 

Walking into the house Connor shrugged, taking the soup away from the sickly boy. "Well, I wasn't going to school anyways."

 

_Wait, what?_ Evan shut the door, making sure to lock it, and followed Connor into the kitchen quite confused.

 

"Where are your pots?"

 

"U-under the oven."

 

Pulling a hair tie from under his sleeve, Connor's copper-colored hair was swiftly tied into a messy bun. Stop staring. The taller teen rolled up his sleeves - arms bearing old and new scars - and took out a small pot. Evan, stop staring. It took too much energy to turn his head, or even close his eyes. Connor was hiding a smile, glancing at Evan.

 

"Evan."

 

"W-what." Of course, he zoned out.

 

"Sit down or something, you look like you're going to faint."

 

Evan sat down, head leaning back on the cabinet. Stop acting like a weirdo. Part of him was confused. This was the same Connor as he'd seen at A La Mode, but different than school. Knowing Connor Murphy was like rolling dice, continually getting something - or someone in this case - new.

 

School Connor kept his walls up, and his (somewhat terrifying) sneer present. Family Connor was angry, almost fearful, kicking in whenever he received a call from another Murphy. Then there was the real Connor, or at least what Evan thought was real, the one that smiled with his teeth and let his eyes shine every once in a while. The one that comforted Evan, whether it be a hand on the small of his back or light on his wrist, easing him into security. That was the Connor Evan kept seeing, the one right in front of him. 

 

"I said, where's the can opener?" His train of thought was interrupted.

 

Pointing to the drawer in Connor's left, he opened the soup. He switched on the gas stove pouring it into the pot. "How are you?"

 

"F-fine..." were they not going to talk about Friday? Was Connor going to brush it off as unimportant? Before he knew it a bowl of soup was placed in front of him, the cook sitting across the table fidgeting with his phone. "Tha-thanks." Eating his soup as graceful as possible his head started to pound, he needed to lay down. Evan pushed away from the half-full bowl of soup, "Sorry, I-I need to lay down. Thanks for sto-"

 

Connor put the soup in the fridge, holding his hand out. "Okay, I'll help."

 

What was he trying to do? Make up for Friday? The honey blond's face heated even thinking about it, the tingly feeling in his stomach making him nauseous. It wasn't even a bad experience? He just couldn't understand why Connor would want to kiss him of all people. Why Evan Hansen, the slightly stocky freckled boy with anxiety and too many emotions. He took Connor's hand, practically leaning on him by the time they got to Evan's room. "Sorry."  Why isn't he leaving? "You...you don't have to stay, y'know."

 

Taking a seat in the desk chair, Connor picked up a The Book Thief from the desk. "Well, I'm volunteering to stay and make sure you don't die or some shit." 

 

"O-okay." 

 

Maybe it was out of habit, but Connor started biting his cuticles anxiously. He swore under his breath noticing he was bleeding. 

 

"You really shouldn't do that," Evan muttered eyeing the band-aids on his left hand. "W-would you m-mind if I slept?"

 

He shook his head. 

 

Getting under the covers, he glanced at Connor, who was already engrossed in the novel. The air was tranquil beside Evan's breathing and the ever so hushed turning of pages, it was almost comforting. There was still the constant nagging or self-hatred in the back of his mind, just quieter than usual at that moment. Closing this eyes, he could feel Connor's eyes on him and then return back to the book. For once there was a substantial feeling of security that covered Evan's anxiety in a soft blanket free of worry and regret. He could get used to it. He could always feel like this and be content and just happy.


	7. He's Falling Blind

 

He was alone in a dark room, no, a void. God, it was so empty. No wind to brush against his cheek or light to help lift the crushing weight of the darkness. _You're all alone._ Evan bit the inside of his cheek so hard he caught the metallic taste blood, he needed to get out. Staring nowhere he yelled. "Connor?" He was with Connor earlier in his room. It was warm and safe in there, unlike here. "Help. Please...please someone help me!"

 

The void shook.

 

"Somebody...somebody help me, please!" Evan could feel his throat closing, lungs giving into his panic. He sobbed clawing at his neck, trying to rip out the lump in his throat. You're all alone. You're always alone, not even he wants you. Nobody wants you! Just die! The ground underneath morphed into a branch, pulling him back to that day. June 6th. There was so much pain in his chest like someone was dragging him across asphalt. He needed someone here. "I don't want to die, not now!" He screamed gripping onto the tree, gawking at the height below him. Tears were everywhere, distracting him from the echoing voice around him until it rang clearly.

 

"Evan?"

 

It shook again.

 

"Evan! Evan?" It wouldn't stop shaking. "Hansen, you're okay!"

 

His eyes snapped open to see a distressed Connor Murphy gripping his shoulders. His brows were furrowed with wide eyes searching for a moment of relief. Evan wasn't alone. 

 

Taking a deep, shaky breath he shut his eyes, feeling the tracks of tears on his face from earlier. Just a nightmare. In no way was Evan okay, even as the emptiness faded into warmth and familiarity, his chest remained tense. When he opened his eyes again, Connor was still there, except the iron grip in his shoulders loosened. "Evan, are you...are you okay?" 

 

He blinked sitting up slowly. His body felt achy and warm. 

 

"Evan, are...do you need anything?" Connor asked again, letting go of his shoulders. "Tea, water, food, medicine?"

 

Evan shook his head, coughing.

 

"You sure?"

 

"Mhm."

 

"Fuck, okay, you had me worried there." Sitting at the foot of the bed Connor ran a hand through his hair. "Are you completely fucking sure?"

 

"Yes." Hugging his knees to his chest, Evan sighed. His hands trembled.

 

"I'm guessing you had a bad dream."

 

He nodded wiping his face of any tears. He didn't feel alone anymore, now he felt slightly embarrassed. How could he be such a burden, even in sleep? "I-I should tell you something...something important. An-and I haven't told anyone this so, yeah." Connor stared at Evan nodding for him to continue. "I didn't fall out...out of the tree. I-I, ha, I let go..." looking up at Connor he saw confusion for a minute, and then surprise? Shock? Sadness? Either way, it stung.

 

"Oh my gosh, Evan, I'm so fucking sorry. I pushed you in-"

 

"It's fine. I'm...I'm okay, I just get nightmares every once in a while." Swallowing the ball in his throat, Evan watched Connor pick at his nails. "What...what time is it?"

 

"I don't know, four thirty?" He mumbled staring at his nails and the chipped black polish. Eventually, he gave up picking at it and bit his finger. 

 

From downstairs a door shut and footsteps walked up the stairs. Opening the door was Heidi typing on her phone with one hand, looking up she smiled gently. "Connor, hi, Evan's still sick isn't he?" She turned her gaze to Evan, who was sitting curled into a ball with his chin on his knees. "Hey, bud."

 

"Hi, Mom."

 

"Afternoon, Ms-I mean Heidi." Connor stumbled over his words frantically moving his hand away from his mouth. "He's still sick, yeah."

 

"Well, you can stay for dinner. I'm making some stove top ramen if that's not too fancy for you!" She joked tilting her head to the side as she looked at them. "The grocery store also had ginger ale on sale if you're feeling adventurous. I'll be downstairs." Shutting the door behind her, she noisily ran down the stairs, no doubt smiling to herself.

 

Connor grinned, which was quite the rare sight, turning his attention to Evan. "Your mom is so fucking cool. Did you know that?" 

 

Smiling softly Evan rubbed his eyes, eyelids growing heavy again. 

 

"I can go-"

 

"No...stay. For dinner I mean, my mom...my mom would appreciate it."

 

"How about you?"

 

Pausing he slowly nodded blinking a couple times. "Yeah," he yawned, "I would too."

 

"Okay, well I'll be downstairs." Leaving the room, Connor took The Book Thief with him.

 

Evan closed his eyes, feeling the pressure of a slight headache near his temples. He wanted to sleep I didn't want to dream. The nightmare shook him out of his previous feelings of comfort and warmth. Unlike what Evan thought, he wasn't alone. Maybe in that room at that time he was, but he wasn't alone. There was a difference. Achy he could feel his fever breaking after three long days of discomfort, three long days of sitting alone at home. Until Connor came along. 

 

_You like him, but does he care about you?_   He frowned shutting his eyes even tighter. _You're a freak, and he's going to find that out._

 

* * *

 

"Thank you." Picking up the bowl of spicy ramen and wooden chopsticks left over from last week's Chinese takeout Evan ate silently while Connor and his mom talked.

 

"So Connor, how do you know Evan? I know you signed his cast, which was very nice by the way, but did you know him before?" 

 

The taller teen cleared his throat, tying his hair up into a neat bun. "Actually I met him last week, but we have study hall together. I recognized him in the computer lab after school and asked to sign his cast." 

 

Okay, this was going fine.

 

She pressed on taking a spoonful of soup somewhat gracefully. "Do you have any hobbies?"

 

"Art." He paused closing his eyes, obviously thinking something over. "And dance."

 

_ What? _

 

"Oh, you take classes?"

 

"N-no. I taught myself tap after my parents took me out of classes." Giving a side glance towards Evan, he ever so slightly blushed looking back at Heidi. "I'm really more into art though."

 

Smiling she stopped her gentle version of an interrogation and spoke about her own day. Evan's eyes flitted in Connor's direction, who was shaking his head at some random questions his mother asked. He scratched at his wrist not noticing Evan's lack of eating. He'd had a slice of toast earlier and the soup, but nothing else. _It's not like you need the food you're just gonna throw it up. Freak._

 

"Evan, I think you look exhausted and need some sleep. You're sick, go get ready. I'll drive Connor home!" 

 

"Okay..." carefully he lifted himself from the chair ignoring the ache from stilling still so long. 

 

"Uh, see you, Evan. Feel better soon, it's kinda boring without you." Letting his hair out of the bun he carefully slipped the hair tie back on his wrist. Giving a small wave, he walked out the front door following Heidi. The door closed. 

 

Dragging himself up the stairs, he haphazardly got ready for bed and walked into his room. Looking at the desk chair, half-hoping Connor would be there reading The Book Thief, calm and elegant in the street lamp light.

 

A knock came from Evan's door not long after his mom came back from dropping off Connor. "Evan?" 

 

"Yeah?"

 

She opened the door smiling gently with a cup of water and two pills for his fever in her hand. Placing them on his nightstand, she took a seat on the bed. She patted the space next to her. He sat down warily, eyes shifting. "What was all that about?"

 

Biting the inside of his cheek, he blinked, not really having a clue about what she was talking about. "What?" She placed a hand on his back. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach. What is she talking about? "Mom, I really...I really don't know what you're talking about. Did I...did I do something wrong? I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Connor coming over I didn't know an-"

 

"Hey. Hey, you're fine. You haven't done anything wrong, kiddo." She gave a sad smile. "You just seemed...off, at dinner. You haven't been eating much, it worries me."

 

_Oh._ He frowned gripping the cloth of his pajama pants. _That._ Staring at the blue wall in front of him his mind buzzed. Evan thought for a minute, about skipping meals, the voice in his head, and how terrified he felt. "I-it's nothing. Nothing at all."

 

She straightened her posture, cocking her head to the side. "Evan...c'mon." 

 

"I'm just...tired. Food makes me feel sick, queasy. I feel like I'm making you-disappointing you. "

 

His mom frowned with tears in her eyes. "Oh honey, is that what was worrying you? Look at me." She turned his head towards her rubbing his cheek with her thumb. Her tone softened, similar to how she spoke to him as a child. "Hey, you're my son, as long as you're happy I'm happy. Don't you ever forget that." He looked up at her sorrowfully. Clearing her throat, she folded her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. "Can you start talking to me?" Watching Evan's shoulders fall she continued. "Evan, honey, is everything okay with Connor. He seems like a charming boy, a little quiet."

 

He looked up at his mom with wide eyes. "Yeah, Connor...he's nice. Sometimes he can be mean, but I know he's just scared." 

 

"Okay then." She smiled kissing his forehead softly. Walking out of the room she turned off the light. "Take those pills for your fever, good night bud. Love you." The door clicked shut.

 

Evan stared at the floor, thoughtlessly swallowing the pills dry. His hands trembled grabbing his phone from beside his pillow. Unlocking it his hands hovered over the call button in Connor's contact. He tapped it, raising the phone to his ear. The ten seconds before he answered were torturous.

 

"Evan? Is everything okay?" 

 

He took in a sharp breath as he wiped his sweaty hand on his pajama pants. "Y-yeah, everything's fine. I just...I wanted to tell you," Evan bit his lip fumbling for a coherent thought to latch onto, "thanks for helping today." 

 

Connor was silent for a moment. "Okay, you know you could have texted me that right?" 

 

"Oh, yeah..."

 

"Not that I don't enjoy hearing your voice or anything, fuck, you should sleep."

 

"Goodnight, Connor."

 

"Goodnight, Ev. I'll see you tomorrow."

 

He hung up and blinked at his phone. Ev, he liked it. Of course making an impulsive phone call shook him to his core, keeping him wide awake. Plugging the phone into its charger he turned on his nature app, hoping the sound of rain on forest leaves would lull him to sleep. Evan smiled to himself. He wasn't a freak or a disappointment, and his mom was...happy. She was the last real family he had, she mattered so much to him. To have her reassurance was a gift.

 

* * *

 

The next day Evan woke up to the doorbell, wiping the sleep from his eyes for the first time his body didn't ache as much. The clock on his bedside table read eleven thirty-six in the morning, later than when he usually woke up. Dragging himself down the stairs, he looked out the peephole to see Connor facing away from the door, of course, there was his signature hair to identify. Looking down at his dark green pajama pants and grey t-shirt a wave of anxiety washed over him. He couldn't answer the door like this. 

 

Quickly walking to the bathroom, he combed his hair and sprayed on deodorant for good measure. The doorbell rang again. Scrambling toward the front door, Evan opened it. "H-hi, Connor."

 

Connor squinted his bright blue eyes looking at Evan hesitantly. "You seem better today."

 

"I feel a lot better, why...why aren't you at school?"

 

"It's fucking boring." He walked inside and waited for Evan to shut the door, he kept squinting. Like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. "Want me to make your food? I bought ingredients." Raising a plastic bag of groceries, he nodded in the direction of the kitchen. 

 

"You don't have to, I don't want to make...make you work." Evan blushed rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Are you okay? You keep-"

 

"Squinting? My left contact tore, and I hate wearing my shitty glasses." Strolling into the kitchen, he pulled out a pot that was slightly bigger than the one he used the day before. Taking out a carton of soy milk, a bag of white rice, a small container of cinnamon, another spice that Evan couldn't figure out, and a bag of pecans. "Measuring cups?" 

 

Pulling open a drawer by the fridge he handed a measuring cup for liquids. Taking it from his had their fingers grazed one another's, sending a wave of warmth though Evan. Connor gave him a slight smile before turning to the faucet and filling it to the four cup mark. Dumping it into the pot, he looked at Evan for more measuring cups.

 

"It'd help if I knew what to look for..."

 

"Measuring cup for solids, teaspoon, and one-fourth of a cup." 

 

Going back to the drawer the blond took each one out, placing them next to the ingredients. "Isn't it hard cooking without being able to see?"

 

He nodded giving the pot a look of frustration. "I'm not sure if you'll laugh at my glasses, I haven't worn them in front of people since, shit, elementary school."

 

"I won't laugh."

 

Connor pulled out a pair of circular black wire frame glasses with moderately thick lenses. Slipping them on he looked away from Evan, avoiding his gaze. "Okay, well that's better."

 

"I want...I wanna see." 

 

"I look fucking stupid."

 

"...Connor, you could never look stupid. I mean-" 

 

After tying his long hair back in a loose bun, he adjusted his glasses. "There, satisfied?" Evan stared for a long moment, he looked adorable. Evan didn't even know it was possible for Connor Murphy to look cute, but here he was. Cute in a totally platonic way because Zoe was cute. Zoe is cute.

 

"You...you don't look stupid. You look g-good with them on, and maybe that's just my opinion, but I think you should know and well...maybe it's stupid but they kind of soften your face, also your eyes seem-"

 

"Okay, okay I get it. I won't call myself stupid looking ever again!" Connor chuckled rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the food. He poured two cups of rice into the four cups of water, crossing his arms as he waited for it to start boiling after he turned the stove on to medium heat. "It's sweet rice. In case you were wondering. I taught myself to cook when I ditched since no one would use the groceries."

 

"Will there be leftovers?" Evan asked sitting on the counter, letting his fingers mess with his shirt. "My mom would let you live here if she knew you could cook."

 

"There will be, will she be home tonight?"

 

"No, she has a ten-hour shift today, then night classes on Wednesdays."

 

Connor nodded picking up a wooden spoon from the drying rack and stirring the rice. "Wanna watch some movies, or, like, sit outside? I saw you have a small backyard." 

 

Evan nodded watching the older Murphy mess with his phone. Plugging it into the small radio in the kitchen he turned on some music. Mother Mother, Evan recognized, whispered from the speakers slowly getting louder as the song continued. "How much more time to cook?" 

 

"Ten minutes for the rice to cook," Connor replied staring at the pot impatiently. He tapped his foot to the beat, not taking eyes off the food. 

 

"You said you dance, can you show me?"

 

"I don't show anyone my dancing."

 

"You also said you don't show anyone your glasses." He shot back nervous biting his lip afterward.

 

Looking up at him on the counter he smirked. "Touché. If a better song comes on maybe, I'll show you. Don't get too hopeful, Evan." Ten minutes disappeared in no time with not a single good song. Turning off the stove he poured in a fourth cup of soy milk and a couple teaspoons of spices. "Bowls?" 

 

Opening the cupboard next to his head Evan reached for two small glass bowls, giving them over. Some sweet rice was poured into each one with three pecans on top in a clover shape. Retrieving spoons and napkins from a basket, he waited for Connor to sit with him. "Thanks..." 

 

"It's really no problem, Ev." 

 

Quietly they ate lunch, music still playing in the background. "You shouldn't skip school for me."

 

Connor smiled nervously taking a spoonful of food before he answered. "It's not like it matters anyway."

 

"Connor..."

 

"Evan, I'm failing three out of six classes already, don't you dare tell me it matters at this point."

 

"How?!"

 

"I don't do my fucking homework. Have you ever seen me actually work in study hall?"

 

He shook his head, pausing for a moment. "You've written things in that notebook though, the red one with paint on the front."

 

"That's personal shit." Evan gave Connor a confused look from across the table. "Poetry. No, I'm not sharing." He teased, kicking Evan's foot under the table before finishing off his food. Taking his bowl to the sink he washed out the excess food, reaching for the pot as well.

 

Evan watched from afar, chewing on his food. He liked this, this peacefulness, no sick feeling in his stomach that keeps him from enjoying food. The music was interrupted by a ringtone of the kill bill whistle. 

 

"Fuck, it's Zoe." Shaking his hands dry he grimaced unplugging the phone. "What?" He frowned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm at Evan's." His fists clenched. "No, I'm not high. I'm at Evan's, I already said that." Connor gritted his teeth. "I'm hanging up." He froze, staring wide-eyed ahead of him like someone had shot him. "You're such a bitch..." Hanging up he sat back down rubbing his face with his hands, clearly shaken.

 

"Connor?" 

 

"What?"

 

"Are you...can I do anything to help?"

 

He shook his head picking up Evan's bowl and washing out the same way he had to his own. "No, I guess not." Shrugging off his hoodie Connor dropped it onto the chair. His fingers grazed along his scars, quite obviously itching to scratch the scabs off. 

 

Grabbing Connor's wrist, Evan led the taller teen to the backyard in silence. Stepping outside the sun washed over them in bright yellow rays. He worried his hands were sweaty, were they? Was Connor weirded out by him and his anxiety? Probably. He sat down on the grass closing his eyes, waiting for Connor to lower himself too. He did, except he didn't lay down. His head rested in Evan's lap, hair sprawled out like a halo in an old painting. Hesitantly he raked his hands through Connor's hair, waiting for a sign to stop. Slowly his knotted hair became smooth in Evan's hand. 

 

After a while he realized Connor had fallen asleep, wrinkles leaving his face and showing a much more youthful looking face than he was used to seeing. It was a downright shame he had to wake him, but avoiding the full, sunburn inducing, midday sun was important. "Connor," he whispered weaving his fingers in and out of the thin copper hair, "we need to go inside." 

 

Sleepily he nodded, sitting up slowly. "Sorry..."

 

"It's fine."  Evan watched Connor stumble inside and onto the couch. "Go back to sleep, you need it."

 

"Mhmmm...." His eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings, quick and elegant. The purplish bags under his eyes showed countless lost fights against sleepless nights. Evan pulled a blanket from the armchair, lifting it over Connor and letting it settle on him. He smiled before slipping upstairs to do the homework that would be due tomorrow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Updates are being written! Please tell me about any grammatical or spelling errors so I can fix them!


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